


Banished

by its_magic13



Category: Septimus Heap - Angie Sage
Genre: And angst, Basically Marcia telling Septimus she screwed up, First chapter takes place directly after the prologue in Darke, Gen, I have no idea where this is going, I love Marcia Overstrand, Light Angst, Rereading Darke and having feelings, Septimus planning his Darke Week, So that’s fun, Spoilers for Darke, The mood of this is wildly inconsistent, so now we have Marcia Overstrand angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25001086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_magic13/pseuds/its_magic13
Summary: Marcia Overstrand has made a mistake. A pretty big one. She has Banished Alther Mella to the Darke Halls- by accident. And now she has to explain this to her Apprentice.
Relationships: Implied/Referenced Alther/Alice, Marcia Overstrand & Alther Mella friendship, Marcia Overstrand & Septimus Heap friendship, Marcia Overstrand & Silas Heap friendship
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going through my phone and I found this and didn’t think it was terrible, so enjoy.

Marcia Overstrand made her way home that night, trembling and terrified.  _What had she done?_ Alther was gone. Not just gone, he was  **Banished** . And there was no way to get him back, as far as Marcia knew. She could not go into the  **Darke Halls** ; she was  **Known** . Well, Septimus’s  Darke Week  was coming up, so maybe...Septimus. Oh god. What was she going to say to Septimus? And Alice. Oh no. Alice. What would she say to Alice? What would  Alice  say to  her ? Marcia liked Alice. After all, Alther loved her, and Marcia had no reason to doubt his judgement. There were nearly two decades of trust between them. And now, she had thrown it all away in one minute.

As she approached the Wizard Tower, Marcia made an effort to steady her hands and her breathing. Then she whispered the password, and the doors opened. The floor welcomed her with  _Good night, ExtraOrdinary Wizard_.  Marcia smiled  weakly. Then she hurried across the hall to the silver spiral stairs as fast as she could without really running. She didn’t want to see anyone right now. Up the stairs she went, up to the twenty-first floor, and into her bedroom, where she somehow fell asleep and did not wake up until dawn.

————————

“Um, Septimus?” Marcia twisted her hands awkwardly.

“What?” Septimus asked. 

Marcia took a deep breath. “There’s something you should know. About Alther.” 

Septimus frowned. “That’s funny, I haven’t seen him at all since yesterday.”

“He’s in the  **Darke Halls** ,” Marcia said simply. 

“What, as in  **Banished** ? Who would do that?” 

Marcia bit her lip. “Apparently I would.”  


Septimus’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “You did  what ?” 

Marcia took a deep, shaky breath. “It was an accident. You know that ghost, Tertius Fume? Well, I asked Alther to find him so we could  **Banish** him for good. So, last night-“ she took another deep breath- “Alther found him in Dungeon Number One. So we went there to  **Banish** him. And then, right as I was saying the last words of the  **Banish** , Tertius Fume  **Merged** with Alther’s foot, and so when I  **Banished** him, I-I  **Banished** Alther too.” 

“Oh,” Septimus said quietly. 

Marcia looked away, blinking hard. It would not do to show weakness to her Apprentice. 

“Well then,” Septimus said, “I guess I know what I’m doing for my  **Darke** **Week** .” He stared off into space, thinking. “I’ll have to go during the dark of the moon, of course. And learn to say my  **Darke** name. Oh, and Marcellus might have something...” He sounded almost excited. 

Marcia sighed. “Septimus, you know that the dark of the moon is the most dangerous time to do this. And the  **Darke Halls** are already the most dangerous place for your  **Darke Week** .” 

Septimus grinned. “I know. But it’s my best and only chance to get Alther back.” 

Marcia mustered a brief smile. “All right, then. It’s your  **Darke Week** , I suppose.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like I said, the first chapter was just something I wrote a couple of months ago on my phone and then found recently. I had planned on perhaps writing a second follow-up chapter, but I think this is turning into something bigger. I have absolutely no idea where this is going, so cheers to that. Also, I’m currently rereading Darke, so bear with me.

Alice Nettles was floating near the moat, looking out over the still waters, waiting... waiting... waiting. Marcia swallowed hard. “Alice?”

Alice turned. “Marcia Overstrand. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I thought I might find you here,” Marcia said, stalling. 

“You thought right.” Alice frowned. “Speaking of finding people, have you seen Alther? He was helping you with something, I think, and he told me he’d meet me here after he was done.” 

“Um, it’s actually Alther I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Do you know where he is?” Alice asked brightly. 

“He’s in the  **Darke Halls** .” Marcia stared at her feet, not wanting to see Alice’s reaction.

“Why is he there? Who  **Banished** him?” To Marcia’s horror, Alice didn’t sound sad so much as angry. 

“I did.”

Alice went so transparent that for a brief second, Marcia couldn’t see her at all. When she reappeared, her fists were clenched and there was an expression of the utmost fury on her face. “ _Why?_ ” 

Marcia forced herself to meet Alice’s semi-transparent eyes. “It was an accident.” 

“An accident,” Alice repeated. “How, exactly, does one  **Banish** a ghost by  accident ?” 

Marcia’s hands were shaking; she clenched them tightly at her sides and hoped Alice hadn’t noticed. “I asked Alther to find Teritus Fume for me, and he did, in Dungeon Number One. We went down there to  Banish  Teritus Fume, but ar the last second, right as I was saying the last words of the  **Banish** , he **Merged** with Alther’s foot, so I ended up  **Banishing** them both.” Her eyes prickled with the threat of tears, but she blinked them away. 

Alice did not say anything for a long time. When at last she spoke, her voice was quieter, and much more level. “So it may have been an accident, but it’s still your fault. He was down there because of you. I bet you could have found your way there on your own. And you didn’t stop the  **Banish** in time.” She stared Marcia straight in the face, unblinking. “Go.”

“What?”

“I have no wish to see you again.”

Marcia opened her mouth to object, but thought better of it, and hurried away towards the Wizard Tower, and up to her rooms, but she did not go in. Instead, she stood outside the purple door, staring at the darkening sky through a window in the hall. Alice was right, of course. The whole mess was entirely her fault. How differently would it have gone if she had gone to the dungeon by herself? 

_You wouldn’t have gotten past the door_ , said a small voice in her head. _There’s no way you would have gone in alone._

“Alice is right,” she said aloud to no one in particular. “It’s all my fault.” She felt something wet on her cheek and wiped it away irritably. Now was most certainly not the time or place for tears. 

“Er, Marcia?” Septimus’s voice cut through her thoughts. 

“What?” she snapped, her voice coming out harsher than she meant it to, infuriated by the idea that someone might have seen her cry. Septimus took a step back. Marcia tried again, her voice softer. “What is it?” 

“I’ve just been to see Marcellus, and he wants to speak with you. About my  Darke Week . Tomorrow, at ten o’clock?” 

Marcia swore loudly; Septimus looked aghast. 

“Sorry,” she said. “I most certainly do not want to speak with him, but when do I ever? Let him come if he wishes.” 

“Great!” Septimus sounded far too enthusiastic about the prospect, but Marcia was tired and could feel a headache building behind her forehead, so it didn’t bother her nearly as much as it should have. 

“I’m going to bed,” Marcia mumbled. “It’s been a horrible day, and tomorrow isn’t shaping up to be much better. Don’t stay up too late, Septimus.” 


	3. Chapter 3

At ten o’clock  _precisely_ , someone knocked on the great silver doors of the Wizard Tower. Marcia groaned. She had been rather hoping that Marcellus might forget, or at least be a few minutes late. She opened the doors. “Yes?” she snapped. 

Marcellus Pye stood there, a sheaf of papers tucked under one arm. “I was under the impression you were expecting my arrival, Marcia?” 

“Yes, I was,” said Marcia tetchily. “That does not, however, mean I was looking forward to it. You’ll be wanting to come upstairs, I presume?” 

And without waiting for a response, Marcia turned and marched across the entrance hall and up the silver spiral stairs, the purple heels of her snakeskin boots tapping out a rhythm made entirely of irritable staccatos. 

Marcellus heaved a sigh and followed her. 

“Fast,” Marcia commanded, snapping her fingers at the stairs. Marcellus opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it so as to keep down his breakfast as the stairs whirled into action. He was almost certain there was a slight smirk playing at the corners of Marcia’s lips as he staggered towards the purple door on the landing. 

“Now then,” Marcia said, opening the door and leading Marcellus to her sitting room, “what was it you wanted to discuss?” 

Marcellus did not answer at first, instead sitting down a purple sofa and checking through his papers. When at last he spoke, it was in a very careful, measured tone. “Septimus has informed me he will be beginning his  **Darke Week** soon.” 

“Go on,” said Marcia impatiently. 

“He also told me he wishes to make his journey to the  **Darke Halls** , but was rather vague about why. I think knowing the reason may help me know how best to assist him.” 

“He wants to rescue a ghost,” Marcia said, crossing her arms tightly and trying not to let her discomfort show on her face. 

Marcellus’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “And you are allowing this?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Well, Marcia,” Marcellus said, as though explaining an obvious error on her part, “ghosts in the  **Darke Halls** are typically there because they have been  **Banished** , and ghosts are usually  **Banished** for a reason.” 

“There’s an exception to every rule,” Marcia replied calmly, even as her stomach twisted with guilt. 

Marcellus did not look convinced. Seeing that Marcia was not going to expand on her statement, he shuffled through his papers again. “Right. Well, the dark of the moon is the most effective time to do this, as my Apprentice seems to be aware-“

“ Your  Apprentice?”

“He never actually formally gave up his Apprenticeship, Marcia. As I was saying, the dark of-“

“Septimus was my Apprentice before he was yours.” 

Marcellus smiled thinly. “I think, if you only check a calendar, you will find that his Apprenticeship to me occurs about five centuries before his Apprenticeship to you.” 

Marcia’s grip tightened on the arm of the sofa. “Is he wearing Wizard robes or Alchemist ones?” 

“You are being ridiculous. This is a waste of time. The most effective-“ 

Marcia was on her feet in instant. “ _I’m_ being ridiculous? Who dragged Septimus through a mirror and five hundred years into the past in the first place? Who insisted on coming to the Wizard Tower and peddling his Alchemie nonsense?” 

Marcellus was now standing as well. “It isn’t nonsense, as you know perfectly well, and he came back in the end, didn’t he?” 

“But you weren’t planning on letting him come back, were you?” 

“I was, actually! Just perhaps not quite how he went about it!” 

Marcia and Marcellus glared at each other. Marcia sat down slowly. “We’ve gotten off-topic,” she said brusquely. 

Marcellus cleared his throat. “Yes, we have.” He sat down as well. “The dark of the moon, is, as Septimus already knows, the most effective time to do this. It also the most dangerous; however, he has assured me he is prepared for the risk. He must value this ghost very highly,” Marcellus added as an afterthought. 

“Yes,” Marcia said. “We both do.” 

“Speaking of ghosts,” Marcellus said, the realization dawning on him, “what happened to the ghost with the ponytail and the bloodstains who’s always hanging around the Tower? The last ExtraOrdinary Wizard, I think?” 

“You mean Alther?” 

“That’s the one.” It was a long shot, but Marcellus took it anyway. “Is he the one Septimus is after?” 

Marcia made an incoherent noise. 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Marcellus asked. 

“Yes, but I don’t see how it’s any of your business.” 

“Seeing as Septimus has asked for my help in planning his  **Darke Week** , I think it is very much my business. Why is Alther  **Banished** ?” 

“It was a mistake,” said Marcia curtly. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“You  **Banished** -“ 

“Marcellus, I do not think we have anything further to discuss today, and I think a meeting of this sort would be far more productive if Septimus were present.” 

Marcellus’s objection died on his lips at the sight of Marcia’s withering glare. “Verywell. I will speak to my Apprentice-” he ignored Marcia’s snort of contempt- “and we will continue this conversation with him present, as you suggested.” 

“Right,” Marcia said through gritted teeth. “You can find your way out, I assume?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll see you in two days at the same time.” 

“All right.” Marcellus gathered his papers and left. 

Marcia breathed a sigh of relief as the purple door closed behind him.She heard voices conferring quietly in the hall, and felt a twinge of annoyance. It would seem Septimus had run into Marcellus on his way to see her. 

The voices stopped, and Septimus stepped through the door. “Marcia?” 

“Yes?” 

“I was wondering if, er, could you, um-“ 

“Get to the point,” Marcia said sharply. 

Septimus recoiled. Marcia sighed. “It’s not your fault. I’m afraid I’m a bit on edge today. What was it you were asking?” 

“I was wondering if you could help me with something.” 

“Of course.” 

“Do you where to find books about getting ready for a **Darke Week** ? In the Pyramid Library, I mean.” 

“I do. Come on, I’ll show you.” Marcia smiled and stood up. “And I’m sorry I yelled at you.” 

Septimus shrugged. “It’s all right.” He followed Marcia out of the room. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So it’s been a little while since I’ve updated (had a bit of writer’s block) but I FINALLY got the Darke audiobook and randomly got inspiration from the way narrator pronounced certain words, so here we are. Enjoy!

Strong. Marcia was strong. She had to be. She didn’t have a choice. 

_Strong_ , she told herself as the other Wizards whispered as she walked past. 

_Strong_ , she repeated when Septimus mentioned that Alice hadn’t been seen since Marcia told her about Alther. 

_Strong, you are strong_ ,  she whispered when that awful moment replayed in her dreams. 

_Unbreakable, invulnerable_ , she reminded herself when she turned to talk to Alther and he wasn’t there. 

_Strong. Unbreakable. Invulnerable._ Marcia Overstrand was none of these things. But she was good at pretending. 

So she lied. When Septimus asked her if she was okay, she told him she was fine. When Hildegarde Pigeon mentioned that Marcia looked “a bit off, like something was bothering her”, Marcia passed it off as not having slept well. 

But one person who refused to be swayed be her lies, was, oddly enough, Silas Heap. Marcia found this out firsthand when she was hurrying along Wizard Way with an armload of scrolls she had borrowed from the Manuscriptorium and ran into him. Quite literally. 

“Goodness, Silas,” Marcia huffed, bending down to rescue the scrolls from the mud. “Watch where you’re going.” 

“I could say the same to you,” Silas said waspishly. 

Marcia muttered something unintelligible and gathered up the last of the scrolls.

“What’s up with you?” Silas asked. 

Marcia pushed hair out of her eyes. “Nothing.” 

“Marcia, I’m not stupid.” 

“That’s news to me,” she snapped. Silas looked hurt, but didn’t say anything. Marcia felt a twinge of guilt, but ignored it. She already felt guilty for so many things, what was one more? 

Marcia stood up and started off again, but to her annoyance, Silas fell in step beside her. “Do you want something?” Marcia asked irritably. 

“Is Septimus okay?”

“I think so,” Marcia said, surprising herself with her honesty. “He’s got a plan and he’s doing something about it, so I think that helps.” 

“What about you?” 

Marcia blinked. “What about me?” 

Silas sighed. “You know perfectly well what I meant. Are you okay?” 

“What do you care?” she muttered, walking faster. 

“Marcia!” Silas hurried to catch up to her. “I know what happened with Alther. He was my teacher, too, you know.” 

“I know.” Marcia did not slow down. 

“Marcia, we used to be friends. I still care about you, oddly enough.”

Marcia stopped and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really?” 

“Believe me,” Silas said, “I’m just as surprised, but as long as I’m feeling sympathetic, you might as well answer the question.” 

“Fine.” Marcia breathed out slowly. “In all honesty, the answer is no.” 

“I knew it. I knew it.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Sorry. But I did know it.” 

“Am I that obvious?” Marcia asked, suddenly worried. 

Silas shrugged. “Not really. Only to me and to Alther if he were here.” 

“Good.” Marcia started walking again, and said nothing when Silas followed. 

“Where did you say you were going again? The Manuscriptorium?” he asked. 

“Yes. I have to return these-“ she nodded at her armload of scrolls- “and I wanted to see if they have anything about getting ready for a  **Darke Week** , for Septimus. I thought we had more books about that, but I guess not.” 

“Oh!” Silas stopped walking. “I’m afraid that’s my fault.”

Marcia scoffed. “Of course it is. What isn’t?” 

But her words had no bite to them, and Silas laughed. “Hey, low blow there, Miss Overstrand. Anyway, I took some books out before I gave up my Apprenticeship, you know? And I never ended up returning them.” 

Marcia looked askance, but there was a touch of humor in it. “Silas! Do you know how valuable those books are?” 

“I know, I know. I’m a touch forgetful, what can I say?” 

“Just a touch?” 

“All right, a lot.” 

A brief smile flickered across Marcia’s lips. They  had been friends, once. She’d forgotten. “Well, I’ll return these scrolls, and then we can meet back here and go find those books?” 

“All right.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry about not updating lately. I will say that the chapter after this one is currently being worked on right now, so I’m going to tentatively say the next update should be in about a week.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day late, not bad by my standards, I guess? Book titles and author names are all made up, obviously.

Marcia left the Manuscriptorium with a sigh of relief. She had been three minutes late, and Jillie Djinn had been her usual insufferable self about it. Thankfully, one of the scribes, whom Marcia was mostly sure was named Romilly Badger, had taken the scrolls when Jillie Djinn’s back was turned. 

Suffice it to say, however, that Marcia was glad to leave the Manuscriptorium behind her and meet Silas- not that she thought she would ever feel that way. 

“Ready?” Silas asked. 

“Ready,” Marcia confirmed, one corner of her mouth quirking up slightly. 

They set off along Wizard Way at a quick pace, neither of them saying anything, not quite sure how to have a conversation with each other that did not revolve around Septimus’s Apprenticeship, petty insults, subtle slights against each other’s life choices, or all three. Silas finally broke the awkward silence. “So, how are things up at the Wizard Tower?” 

“Fine.” Marcia surprised herself by adding, “Or they should be. All these little malfunctions, they wouldn’t mean anything on their own, but all at once- it’s more than a little unsettling. And of course there’s everything with Alther-” she allowed herself a slight shudder- “I swear the entire Tower has somehow received a detailed account of  _ exactly  _ what happened.”

Silas shrugged. “Wizards gossip, particularly ones who live at the Wizard Tower. You know how it is.” 

“I do, it’s just incredibly frustrating. How do they even hear about all of this?” 

“ **Magyk** ,” Silas said, wiggling his fingers. 

Marcia laughed. “I’m being serious.” 

“So am I. You never know  _ what  _ they might get up to when you’re not breathing down their necks.” 

“Hey!” 

Silas snorted. “Not sorry.” 

Marcia rolled her eyes. “ _ Anyway _ , things aren’t as fine as they should be, but it’s really nothing new. How’s Sarah?” 

“Wonderful. She’s very excited for Septimus’s birthday party tomorrow.” 

Marcia groaned. “I’d forgotten about that. Wouldn’t you know it, nearly all the Ordinary Wizards are annoyed with her? Fourteenth birthdays are-”

“Special, especially for Wizards,” Silas finished. “I’m a Wizard, too, Marcia. I lived in the Tower for my Apprenticeship, don’t forget.”

“Right. But her insistence on holding the celebration at the Palace has... not gone down well, to say the least.” 

Silas shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting it to.” 

Marcia laughed again. How long had it been since she’d laughed? It felt nice. Freeing. She had missed having a close friend who was both alive and her own age more than she cared to admit. 

They reached a split in the road, and rather than heading for the Palace, Silas turned towards the Ramblings. 

They didn’t say much the rest of the way, but walked in companionable silence.

When they reached the big red door to the Heaps’ former residence, Silas turned to Marcia and said, “I don’t know if I’ll still be able to get into the room, but I’m going to try.” 

Marcia nodded. Silas brought his hand to the door and whispered “Open.” The door stiffened. Silas sighed. “Open!” Still nothing. “Open up!” Silas angrily kicked it, then jumped back with a yell of pain. “OW! Stupid door!” 

Marcia bit her lip to hold back her laughter. “Let me.” She stepped up, put her hand to the door. “Open.” 

This time, the door swung open smoothly. Silas glowered at it. “Oh, you’ll open for her, but not me? I see how it is.” 

Marcia grinned and held out her arm. “After you. It’s your home, after all.” 

“All right. Now, we’re looking for maybe five books about getting ready for a  **Darke Week** . They’re going to be hidden very well, if they’re here at all.” 

“Nothing’s ever easy where you Heaps are concerned, is it?” Marcia asked as she and Silas spread out to opposite corners of the small room. 

Silas chuckled. “No, I guess not.” 

“How on earth did you manage to fit seven children plus yourself and Sarah in here?” Marcia asked, opening a box and letting out a small shriek upon finding out the hard way that it was home to a family of spiders. 

“To be honest, I have no idea. Same way your parents did, I would imagine. All right there? ” 

“Yes, wonderfully.” Marcia slammed the lid back on the box and set it back down on the shelf. “And I had no siblings, it was just me and my parents, so we had considerably more space.” What she didn’t say was that the space they did have was never enough, that she would always take her time getting home from school, that the reasonably sized apartment often felt claustrophobically small when tempers would flare...

“Marcia? Did you hear me?” 

“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” Marcia shook her head, shaking off the memories. 

“I was just saying I think I know where the books are.” 

“Oh! Where?” 

Silas pointed up to the makeshift attic, which was more of a hole cut in the ceiling. “In there. Mine and Sarah’s old bedroom.” 

“What are we waiting for?” Marcia asked. “Let’s go.” 

Climbing a ladder proved to be rather difficult in her pointy purple python shoes, but Marcia made it work. “Here!” Silas exclaimed, wiggling his fingers under the edge of a loose ceiling tile and prying it up. Marica leaned over his shoulder. Sure enough, underneath it, there were five books, each covered in a thick layer of dust. 

Marcia reached out and lifted them up one by one, reading their titles aloud. “ _Where To Go For Your_ ** _Darke Week_** _: A Comprehensive Guide for All Ages_ by Serafina Schollman _, Into The_ ** _Darke_** by Edgar Archelli, _How To Control the_ ** _Darke_** _Before It Controls You_ by Ells Morryat… These are all the books I was looking for when _I_ was preparing for my **Darke Week** , Silas!” 

“Oops?” Silas shrugged. 

Marcia gathered up the books and scrambled down the ladder, Silas following after her. “Well, hopefully Septimus will find these helpful. What time is it?” 

Silas checked his timepiece. “Quarter past one.” 

Marcia cursed. “I’m supposed to meet an Apprentice from Floor Fifteen at one-thirty to hopefully put a stop to all her foolish Disappearing Charms popping up all over the place. I have to go.” 

“Oh. Well, goodbye. Good luck!” 

“Thanks. I’ll need it.” Marcia hurried out of the red door, nearly dropped the books, stopped, readjusted her load, and set off again down the corridor.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Heaps actually did have an attic that was more of a hole in the ceiling. From Magyk: "Sarah and Silas were also fast asleep. They had escaped to the small attic space that Silas had acquired a few years back by the simple means of knocking a hole up through the ceiling, after Sarah had declared that she could no longer stand living with six growing boys in just one room."


	6. Chapter 6

Marcia Overstrand slipped out the great silver doors into the frigid night air, shivering slightly despite her thick purple cloak. She could already tell that sleep would be impossible tonight and had decided to do something with the time rather than lying in bed staring at the ceiling for hours on end. It had been a good day, mostly. Septimus had found the books very interesting, the Apprentice from Floor Fifteen had agreed to keep her Disappearing Charms contained to her room, and Marcia was on better terms with Silas Heap than she had been in years. In fact, it had been a wonderful day. But sometimes, she could be calm all day, and then as soon as she climbed into bed and pulled up the covers, her mind began racing at a million miles a minute and refused to slow down. Tonight was one of those nights. 

As Marcia walked along the road beneath the dark, starry sky, she felt her head clearing. Septimus’s birthday was tomorrow, and- Septimus’s birthday. She had forgotten to get him a present. For a moment, a wave of panic and guilt washed over her, but then she remembered the Traders’ Market. She could find something nice there- she hoped. 

Despite the late hour, the Traders’ Market was well-lit and quite a few people were still walking amongst the stalls. Marcia felt a slight thrill run through her. This was the first time she had visited the Traders’ Market since the third year of her Apprenticeship to Alther. Alther… No. She would not let herself go there, because she knew if she fell into that well of guilt and grief, she would never get out. She was buying a birthday present from a holiday market. It was supposed to be a happy experience.

A young man standing behind a table spread with an assortment of beautiful bracelets was giving Marcia a strange look. She gave him a slightly awkward smile and continued on her way. 

People said you could find just about anything in the Traders’ Market, and from what Marcia could see, they were right. Books, candles, blankets, pies, jewelry, and lanterns were just a few of the items on display. Marcia found herself caught up in the swirling, slightly chaotic excitement of it all. For a short while, she simply wandered the market, taking in everything there was to see. Feeling she had earned it after the events of the previous few days, she bought a pair of dark purple gloves and a tall, frothy hot chocolate before continuing to browse for a present for Septimus. 

A stall near the hot chocolate stand sold an array of  **Magykal** trinkets. Marcia was about to walk past it, when something caught her eye. It was an  **Enlarging Glass** made of silver and gold. She picked it up, feeling the weight of its smooth ivory handle in her hand. Marcia turned it over and over, examining every detail. The craftsmanship was flawless, and the enchantments on it had been done perfectly. She hoped Septimus would like it. 

“How much?” Marcia asked the tall man running the stall. When he named the price, her eyebrows soared up her forehead, but she reached into the pocket of her robes, fished out a handful of coins, and handed them over. 

Leaving the Traders’ Market a bit later that night with new gloves on her hands, sipping the best hot chocolate she had ever tasted, and carrying a birthday present for her Apprentice, Marcia felt like someone else. Rather than returning to the Wizard Tower, she turned away from Wizard Way and walked towards the Moat. For the first time in a long time, Marcia was unworried by anything or anyone. She wasn’t Madam Marcia Overstrand, ExtraOrdinary Wizard. She was just Marcia, taking a walk under the stars and drinking hot chocolate. It was nice. 

When she finally crept through the Wizard Tower’s huge silver doors and up to her rooms on the twenty-first floor, it was near dawn. Exhausted, but in a good way, Marcia collapsed into bed, fell asleep almost instantly, and was awoken far too soon by the bright sunlight streaming in through her window. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcia and I both needed to relax, so this happened.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated!


End file.
